


Open Your Eyes

by castielsaviour



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comments are appreciated, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Revenge, dont worry Jess is alive, mild rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsaviour/pseuds/castielsaviour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, a foster teen for years, is broken. After being brutalized by foster dad, Alistair, he manages to escape while<br/>Castiel Novak, a teen abused by his drunk pathetic excuse of a dad, flees away from home for the millionth time, only this time, he's praying to god that it will be his last time running away. Both Dean and Cas hate each other at first sight, but as they struggle to survive on the streets, will they learn to trust and forgive, or lie and deceive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the first fanfic I've written, so let me know if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes or ways I can write better. Comments would also be greatly appreciated! Give it a chance please:) This might just be a rough draft... 
> 
> I will try to update every weekend...

Dean woke up to the delightful noise of chirping birds and the pale sun casting a soft glow in his room. He let out a small sigh and rubbed his eyes before throwing off the covers  
and basking in the rays seeping through the old window. The neighboring children were already up, playing under water sprinklers on the front lawn and dancing in the cold  
thrusts of water. They giggled and clapped their little hands, disregarding their soaked clothing. Their mom held a heaping pile of fluffy towels out for them, wrapping them and placing gentle kisses on their foreheads before shooing them off and adjusting the sprinkler. Mornings like this made Dean feel settled in a real home, at peace, but that would never happen for him. The brilliant sunny days always faded away into darkness, similar to the way his lonely days were spent.  
He was a foster kid, and that meant being shoved around to another family that would eventually give him up, bringing him to another family his agent Jodie approved of. His new foster dad, Alistair wasn’t exactly the spitting image of the loving parent across the street. He had been living with him for only a few days, but the minute he saw him, his gut told him to run. It told him that he was one of those foster parents. Dean craved to have the normal life with siblings and welcoming parents like the mother residing on the other side of the road, the ones that most kids took for granted but this place was like any other; temporary. Never grow attached, but most importantly, never let anyone see you break down.

“Dean, get your lazy ass down here right now!!!”

He snapped out of his trance and bolted downstairs to the kitchen, where Alistair was standing, a wicked smirk tugging at the older man's lips as he took in the form of his foster kid at the bottom of the stairs, wide-eyed and nervous. “Get me a glass of water, will ya Dean-o” His fraudulent optimism made Dean shudder. Why did Jodie send me to a man this creepy? Why couldn’t she send me to the family across from this nightmare..... As the rushing stream of water filled the glass, Dean became aware of Alistair’s presence lingering right over him, the man's breath hot on his neck. He jolted back in fright, colliding into the man's chest, fearing his reaction. “I'm so sorry, Alistair, Ill clean it up”. Dean gave Alistair the best apologetic face he could make without having to look into those cold gray eyes. He shut off the faucet and bent over to mop the pooling water around Alistair’s feet, but was instantly yanked up and thrown against the wall. Shock infiltrated his body, even though he had been beaten up from abusive foster parents several times before. Their faces were nearly touching as Alistair seethed against him. “Oh you are never going to make that mistake again boy!” he sneered, sending shivers down Dean's spine. Before he could react in any way, Alistair threw a hard punched into Dean's upper jaw, startling him while Alistair stuck a drugged needle into his arm. The large foot colliding into his ribcage caused Dean to buckle into a heap on the carpet, already stained of the blood trickling out of his mouth. 

He got up slowly, wincing at his abdominal pain and trying to clarify his triple-vision of Alistair, who wrenched Dean up by his shirt and practically dragged him up the stairs to his bedroom. “Get on the bed you little shit!” He released his grip of Dean's sweat-soaked t-shirt, causing Dean to crash into the bed lamp and slump onto the hardwood floor. Run, run! He knew he couldn’t run very far with the drug clouding his vision and numbing his senses, but the thought raced through his mind. He was frozen in fear for what was going to happen. It had almost happened once, but he managed to knock the guy cold before it did. That guy wasn't smart enough to drug him though, unlike this son of a bitch who pulled his weakening body onto the creaky bed. “ I love your pretty hazel eyes you know that? And a nice voice you have indeed. Maybe you can use it to scream for me”, he whispered as he straddled Dean where his jeans hung low. Dean tried to pry the man off but he was just too weak It all happened so fast. “Get off of me you fucking bastard! Stop, no please, stop!!” Tears gathered in Dean's eyes as the man ripped the t-shirt from his numb body and ran his cold hands along Dean's muscles, making their way to the beginning of his ass. “Begging is a good look on you Dean-o. I want you to beg for me. C'mon, beg for me”..........................................................

 

 

Cas ran. That was all he knew. Run and hope they don’t find you. He could hear his drunk dad sprinting out the front door with a handgun loaded. Cas jumped the tall fence surrounding the property and dashed into the local supermarket across the street, panting and failing to catch his breath. His dad wouldn't be far behind, so he sprinted towards the other end of the store, disregarding the mixture of nasty and worried glances from shoppers as he knocked over bins of food. One man tried to stop him and grabbed his shoulder, landing the guy an instinctive punch from Cas, who ran from the bleeding man to the emergency exit. His eyes darted back and forth, contemplating a place to hide. The screams of frightened shoppers notified Cas of his dad's presence in the store, still probably wielding his shotgun. He slid under the supermarket dumpster just in time. Holding his breath, he could hear the man's steps approaching and the exit door slamming shut. His heart was pounding a mile a minute and Cas swore it's beating throbs could be heard in the dead silence. “Castiel, I'm gonna find you, and when I do, oh your going to fuckin get it ya hear!? I'll add more than just a few bruises to that pretty little face of yours, you little faggot!” After a brief moment, Cas could hear the exit door slam again, but he knew his dad well enough to know it might be a trick to get him to slide out from hiding. Cas just stayed underneath the dumpster, concluding that letting the night blow over under here was the safest option at this point. His breathing subsided and the world around him went blank as he drifted into a restless trance. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up from this one.......... 

He woke up to a nasty headache and the sight of man's shoes from the crack of the dumpster. The body belonging to the feet bent underneath the dumpster, causing Cas to jump and smack his head against the bottom of the dumpster, adding to his pounding headache. The man had soft features splayed across his aging face. “Hey kid, you gotta leave. I don't want trouble like you sleeping near my store. Go home” the man seemed harsh, yet forgiving at Cas' bruised sight. Cas slid out from the dumpster and pulled himself up, rubbing his weary eyes. “I'm sorry sir, I’ll leave' The man simply nodded his head and returned inside. Cas felt awful. His bruises were sore and he had hit his face on the dumpster last night, resulting in a large purple-black eye. He stripped of his ripped jacket and threw it into the dumpster, leaving his bare muscles peeking out his tank top. Good riddance, he thought. Just another piece of the past to leave behind. He made his way down the street corner and managed to hitch a ride to a few towns over. Its far, but not far enough. The lady in the car was very amicable and didn't raise any questions to Cas' disheveled appearance. “Is this place okay, kid?” she stopped the car after a few towns. Cas let a small smile slip from his face. “Yes, ma'am, thank you”. He looked at the floor and felt really bad all of a sudden. “I, I, i, don’t have any money, I'm so sorry!”. The lady laughed, but stopped when she saw Cas' obvious confusion. “Kid, you don't have to do that. I could tell you had no money when I picked you up. Just promise me something?” Cas grew nervous “Yes, what is it?” “I want you to call me when your done running”, she smiled at Cas' shocked face and scribbled her number and name, Ellen, onto a piece of paper and handed it to Cas. “Now go on kid, I wish ya luck” she spoke warmly and drove off with a wave. Cas waved back. Huh, who knew people could just be nice like that? He tucked the paper into his pocket with his cell and carried on the road, finding any place to rest for the day.

 

Dean's eyes fluttered open, hoping that last night was just another nightmare, only to see Alistair's face resting right next to his on the musty pillow. He jumped a little at his face so close to him, causing the older man to stir in his sleep but not enough to wake the bastard. A large bruise covered Dean's torso and his ass was swollen from what Alistair had done to him last night. Dean couldn’t take this anymore. Alistair had been hurting him like this for nearly a week, but Dean wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing him scream. He just kept living on with the pain, hoping his agent, Jodie, would transfer him to somewhere, anywhere but here. Preferably to an abandoned desert where he could die in peace.

A realization hit him. This is it. This is my chance to escape. There wasn’t time to contemplate this. He quietly slid off the bed, rubbing at his rope-burned wrists. Forget about the pain, c'mon. You have one chance at this! He shook off the pain and looked for what he like to call his “runaway” bag. Every time he was brought to a new foster home, he would prepare his rucksack with everything he needed to run away. Clothes, two hundred dollars, cell phone, first-aid, and his old keepsakes. He snatched it and threw it over his back, running to the bathroom door, careful not to make noise. Once inside, he gently closed the door, making sure to lock it to stall time. His heart was pounding and his vision was still a bit blurry from the drug Alistair shot into him last night, but he eventually stumbled to the other end of the bathroom, breaking the lock on the old window, something Alistair put to stop his foster kids from escaping. He hadn't even realized how loud he was. He slid open the window, straddling the frame when he heard Alistair ramming on the door. “Open up Dean-o!” Dean could hear the fumbling of keys from the other side. His body was starting to paralyze again, but this was his only chance of living. He leaped out of the window, landing on the pavement below. The jump was only a few feet above the ground, but he fell hard. He thought he had cracked something in his foot and pain was flooding towards the area, but his instincts told him to run. From the window, he could hear Alistair slam the bathroom door. He's coming! C'mon Dean, move your legs! He raised his weakening body from the pavement and attempted to run in his blurring state. The pain was suddenly gone, adrenaline streaming through him as he bolted away from the house, running into the forest that led to town, the branches smacking into his face and the steep hill working against him. He didn’t even think about where he was going to go and how he would live homeless. He just needed to run. Run from the hell he had endured for weeks. And that was what he did. 

 

The dusty old barn Cas came across near the edge of the forest was a lifesaver. Not only was it vacated and hidden, but it was close to the edge of whatever town this was that he finally settled in. He had been walking for days with an occasional stop to rest and he was exhausted. He pushed himself just a little bit further towards the entrance of the barn, his feet crunching on the leaves underneath his feet. The wood floors creaked as he entered, dust falling from overhead. It looked safe, for now. He hunkered down by a wall post, using some old soft straw to lay his weary head to rest. The small holes from the ceiling let the moonlight shine through the barn, casting a pretty blue light around the entrance. For once, Cas felt at peace. He curled up in a ball, clutching his handy pocket knife, and drifted off into a light sleep where he would dream of angels.

The next day was terrible. If life could get much more terrible. He walked to the nearest grocery store he could find. Endless aisles of food awaited him. Food that he couldn’t buy. What the fuck am I gonna do? I had money the last few times I ran away..... Cas had never stole anything, surprisingly, but his tummy grumbled and ached to have something. He passed by a few shoppers who grunted at his appearance. He hadn’t realized how shady he really looked, so he found the store bathroom. His white tank top was now a faded gray color, and his acid wash jeans and combat boots scuffed, not to mention how messy and scruffy his black hair was. To be honest, he thought he was pulling off a pretty nice grunge look. He certainly had the looks for it, at least that’s what people used to tell him. He brushed the dirt off his arms and washed his face with some water before continuing with his mission. A year ago, he would have never stolen food from anywhere, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He tried his best to walk nonchalantly towards the can aisle, picking up some cans of beans and soup. Once again, he had a problem. No jacket to hide the cans. Fuck... His heart pounded and he couldn't help but draw the attention of the shoppers in the aisle. Was he really that obvious??? He started to make his way towards the exit, still gripping the cans. “Excuse me, what do you think you are doing?” Cas jumped at the touch of the man's hand on his shoulder. “I, uh, don't know what your talking about sir, I was just grabbing some cans for my, uh, mom” He turned around to face the owner of the hand that was still fuckin touching him. Great, a police officer. “Uh, huh, nice try. I know your kind buddy. I'm taking you down to the station and calling your mom up, or whoever is supposedly 'taking care' of you” No, no, Cas couldn’t go back to his dad, no he couldn’t! Cas was his personal punching bag, and the thought of going back made Cas' eyes well up with fresh tears. “Drop the cans boy”. Cas faced the cop and stared at him. He knew the cop was just doing his job, but he needed this food. He gripped onto the cans even tighter, holding his ground. “Please, sir, I need the food. Just let me have it, please....”, Before he could finish, the cop pushed Cas onto the ground, slamming his head into the floor. Patrons screamed and backed up away from Cas and the cop, focusing their gazes intently on the scene. Cas groaned and tried to pull away, but the cop had him pinned down. 

He cried at the memories of being pinned down. The cop figured he was crying because he wanted the food, and that was just fine with Cas. He wouldn’t tell anyone the real reason why. No one would believe him anyway. “ C'mon boy, get up. Now!” The cop yanked up Cas by his shirt and walked him out to his police car. “Get in”. Cas simply complied and ducked under into the seat. The engine roared and they took off. No food, I guess. The ride was silent for the most part, with the occasional questions that Cas refused to answer. They eventually arrived at the station in what felt like long, tedious hours and when Cas walked in, he began to panic. He couldn't run, hell, there were like twenty fuckin police officers in here. He wouldn’t get as far as five feet. He decided to remain calm and do whatever the cop said. Except answer any questions. The police officer pointed to a chair and walked away to get some papers. “Now don't you go anywhere. It wont do ya any good ya here?” Cas simply nodded and stared at the floor. He refused to look at any one. Not even the kinder female cop that gave him some water. He just thanked her and looked at the floor again. He eventually looked up to see murmurs and pointing fingers. Damn, he wanted to run so bad. “ Um, can I go, please?” he didn't mean to sound so desperate. The cop leaned down to Cas eye level, glaring at him. He didn’t seem to feel very sorry for Cas. Not like the female cop did. “Look at me when I speak to you son. Show some damn respect!” “Sorry, sir, I really am, I..I...”

“Donna, take this boy back to the inspection area. He's hiding something for sure”, the cop gave Cas a look of disgust. A lady approached Cas, gently patting him on the shoulder. “Let's go sweety.” she smiled at Cas and led him down a hallway. Other police continued to give him nasty sharp looks, but this lady Donna was kind, genuine. She seemed to like Cas. He sat in the inspection room, taking it all in. The one-way glass, the dim lighting. It looked like his basement. Shudders creeped down Cas spine causing him to shiver at past thoughts. “oh honey, you look hungry. Here, let me get you some food.” Cas looked into her eyes and let a small smile form, whispering a tiny “thank you”. She returned with a large tray, consisting of two sandwiches and a bottle of water. Once Donna left, he dug into the glorious food before him, not caring that at least 15 other cops were scrutinizing him through the one-way glass. 

“Look Donna, I know you think he's a good kid deep down, but I just don't see it” the cop stared at Cas, who was tearing into his food as if he had been starved. “Well, he's obviously been deprived of food and he acts like someone who gets abused. You even told me the way he cried and flinched when you touched him” Donna wanted to help this kid. He was only 17 years old, with a life ahead of him. She glanced over at Mr. Hendrickson, who nodded in agreement. “Alright, you’re right. But we have to check for injuries, that is, if he will let us check.” Donna could tell this wouldn’t be easy. She's dealt with abuse victims far too often, and they did not like being touched at all. She opened the door, holding a small bag. Cas merely looked at Donna for a moment before looking to the side and rubbing his content stomach. “Kid, what's your name?” Cas felt like he could trust her. Only her, though. “Castiel” he said meekly.“Good, now Castiel, we need to check for any bruises or injuries on your body. Can you help me out with that?” Cas wanted to help her out and say yes, but the thought of anyone touching him made him scream. He let out a loud yelp, causing a couple other cops to run into the room. Cas ran to the other side of the room, but he was cornered. “Please Castiel, don't make this hard for us.” Donna's words were meaningless now. “No, don't touch me, no, NO!” His knees buckled, causing him to kneel on the floor and swat at anyone who approached him. One of the heavy-built cops pulled him up and held his arms back. He screamed and shouted, the memories racing through his mind. Hendrickson entered the room. “Castiel, I need you to calm down okay. We just want to simply look for bruises or scars. He started to pull up Cas' tank when with every fighting urge, Cas kicked the cop in the shin. He could see the anger rise within the cop as he grabbed his bruising shin. “Do it now Donna!” What? Do what?? Donna faced him and took out a needle from the black bag, sticking it into his arm. “I'm sorry sweetie, but we have to..” And just like that, he went numb and Donna's face went black in a matter of a minute. 

 

Dean was fuckin tired. He had been walking for days, only stopping once to grab some cheap food. His swollen ankle was killing him and the cool breezes of the night chilled him. It was painful to breath, let alone walk. His bruised rib was surely gonna be the death of him. The last couple of nights, he slept by a tree hidden from the nearby town's lights, only to be woken up from a twig cracking or nightmares alluding his restless mind. But then a little hope entered his life. He finally found a place to rest. Hoping that the barn wasn’t inhabited, he slowly creaked the large door open, ready to attack. But there was no one. Just the soft graze of light amoung the floor boards. Relief flooded his system as he plopped down by a wall post, breathing in the old scent of hay. He went to grab some hay to cushion himself, but found something even more interesting. A small picture lying under the hay. He gently picked it up, gazing at the happy family in it. A mother, father, and at least five young and old teens. The one who had caught his eye was the younger one with scruffy black hair and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. 

 

Cas didn't respond to Donna anymore. That's what happened when you trust someone, they drug you! He woke up slightly dizzy, peering up at the three cops staring at him, relieved of his awakening. Even Hendrickson seemed relieved. “C'mon sweetie, let's get up”. The cops propped him into a chair and Donna gently rubbed his shoulder while softly looking into Cas' eyes. “Castiel, can you please remove your clothing?” Cas was drained. He didn't even care anymore. The drug they injected hours ago was still lingering in his system, numbing his senses slightly. He stood up from the chair and grabbed at the hem of his tank top. He lifted it off and dropped it to the ground, along with his shameful eyes. The cops gasped at what they saw. Bright red gashes lined his back, some old ones covered by fresher ones. His ribcage was swollen with the countless large bruises covering his neck area and chest. He was a painting of red and purple colors. Donna got up from her own chair and walked over to Cas, noting all his injuries in her mind. She teared up a little and softly cupped Cas' damaged scarred face. He seemed hesitant and drew away from the sudden touch, but she continued to softly pet his cheek, an expression of sorrow twinged with anger in her eyes. After what felt like forever, they let him dress again and sit in the waiting room. Man, was he exhausted. That stupid drug was finally starting to wear off and clear his mind. All the police were elsewhere, and the vacated waiting room he was sitting in gave him an idea. Run. You know that if you stay any longer, Dad will find you, just run Cas, now! Too late. Donna and Hendrickson entered the waiting room, prodding Cas with questions of his family and who takes care of him. He wouldn’t answer. It was already risky enough to give his name. Both of them started to anger a little, but Donna tried to hide it, unlike Hendrickson's beat red complexion. Cas felt bad, but there was no fuckin way they were sending him back. “I'm sorry, I just, can't tell you” Hendrickson slammed down on the table. “You are really pushin my buttons kid. You can't or you won't”? Cas was jaded at this point, he didn't even jump at the sudden movement. “Both, sir”. He let out a little smirk at the cops frustration. “Kid, until you decide to tell us anything, you're gonna have to sleep in the cell downstairs.” “Good, at least I won't get beaten down there.” He gave Hendrickson a nasty glance, but Hendrickson returned with an apologetic one. “Look at me kid”, he grabbed Cas' shoulders firmly, staring into his sad blue eyes,”you don't deserve this okay. You really don't. But you're gonna have to give us some information”. Cas looked down at the floor before giving him a sarcastic “Good luck with that”, clearly giving Hendrickson his answer. He walked Cas to the cell, closing it gently. Time to formulate an escape plan.

 

Cas took a brief nap to rest up for his plan. It was clearly around midnight or so, judging by the lack of cops and the moonlight entering his cell form the small window. Thankfully Donna was the night cop, so she would believe what he was gonna do. Forcefully, he started dry heaving and clutching his stomach, spitting up anything from his stomach. It wasn't ideal that he had to throw up for this, but he wasn't left with many choices. Donna came running over to the cell, as planned, unlocking it and helping Cas up once he “finished”. “Honey, let me get you some water, stay right here alright?”. Cas gratefully smiled at her, but it was genuine. He really didn't want to do this to Donna. As she went to get the water, he slyly slipped out of the cell and to the front entrance. “Castiel? CASTIEL?” He could hear her yelling getting closer. Hurry, c'mon! The lock was tricky to pick, but just as she saw him, he broke open the door. They both stood there briefly, neither one running away or towards the other before Cas finally spoke. “I'm sorry Donna, I can't go back there” he turned away and ran out, with Donna's footsteps not far behind. An alarm went off, alerting several other night cops to follow after Donna. Cas didn't look back to see how many their were; Hendrickson's voice was all he needed to hear to start sprinting. He dashed behind cars, over bushes, but was cornered by a fence. God dammit! Did God hate him??? The fence was very high, but he scaled his way nearly to the top when he heard a bullet zip past his ear. “Castiel, stop, get down here now!”. Cas scaled his way down the other side, darting a few of the bullets. When he landed on the other side, he was angry. “Donna, you won't make me go back there! I'm sorry I had to do this to you, I really liked you, but I will NOT go back!” Tears welled up in his eyes at Donna's expression. Hurt. Donna reminded him so much of his mother. Caring, sweet, never giving up on him. She ran to the side, making her way around the fence, but not quick enough. Cas shook himself out of the memories and bolted to the forest. Back to the barn where he could sleep and dream of angels. 

 

Dean still held the picture in his hands. Who were these people? The picture looked only a few years old, judging by the white coloring and well-kept edges. It reminded Dean of his little brother, Sammy, whom he hasn’t been able to see in nearly two years. He slid it into his rucksack and pulled out his cell, dialing a number. “Hello?” Dean couldn't believe it. He actually answered the phone. “Sammy, it's Dean. I haven't been able to talk to you in what, like two years?” he could hear the small laughter of Sammy's voice. Just like the brother he was separated from two years ago. “Yeah, bro. I've really missed you. I...wow.. I mean.... how are you??” Dean tried to hold back his choking sob. “I'm alright Sammy, I’m alright. I ran from my foster dad and I'm homeless, but believe me, it's better than being at his house.”, letting out a forced chuckle. The laugh wasn’t reciprocated by Sam. Instead, he heard Sam gasp. “Dean, are you sure your okay?? You could live with my foster family here in Ohio.” He paused for a brief moment. “Wait, you are in Ohio, right?” “Nope, when we got separated I was transferred to Lawrence, Kansas.” Dean heard the creak of the barn door open suddenly. “Uh, Sam, I think I heard something. I'll call back when I can okay? I'll make my way to you. Text me your address okay?” “Yeah Dean, I will. I love ya”. “Love ya too Sam.” The ringer went dead. Dean fought the urge to cry at the memories of his separation from Sammy, but he the approaching creaking told him someone was in here. He jumped up, holding his pocket knife in one hand, fist clenching in the other. “Hello??? The creaking sound got louder and louder, until the figure turned the corner. It was another teenager, who looked disheveled and also had a pocketknife. “Um, who are you?” he inquired. Dean didn't know what to say. Was he friendly, was he a threat? He just stared into his bright, fierce eyes. “I, uh, I'm Dean. I'm kinda homeless and I needed a place to stay”. The guy looked over Dean, still grasping his knife as if preparing for Dean to make a sudden move. “I'm Castiel. I found this place a few days ago.” His voice suddenly grew furious, eyes darting to Dean. “It’s mine. Leave!” He started to step towards Dean, raising his knife to Dean's throat as he pinned him against the wall. He could tell the guy was a runaway like him, and clearly a more skilled one. “Dude, chill. I didn't know you were living here. I really need a place to sleep and this barn is big enough for the two of us, c'mon.” He tried to remain calm, but the knife to his throat had caused him to shake and quiver against the wall. The guy lowered his knife, placing it in his back pocket, backing away and staring down at Dean. Gosh was he beautiful. He had a runner's body, with toned muscles showing underneath his graying tank top, and the dirty combat boots and light jeans added to the grunge look of his black hair. Not to mention his aquamarine eyes staring right into his green ones. Cas broke the contact quickly, settling across from Dean, slumping down on some hay. They sat in uneasy silence for a long time before Dean spoke. “Look, I could tell our dislike for each other is somewhat mutual, but how about we each pool money together and just look out for each other. Agreed?” Cas thought about it for a minute, aware of Dean's gaze still lingering on him as he waited for Cas to answer.  
“Yeah I guess.” Dean smiled. “Good, Cas.” Cas furrowed his brows at that. No one ever called him Cas before. It was always Castiel, but the nickname rolled off of Dean's tongue in a soft way that comforted him and made him feel safe. He slowly drifted into a sleep, catching Dean's gaze before everything went dark. 

 

“ Cas, Cas, wake up!” Dean's hands grabbed onto Cas' shoulders, violently shaking him. He jumped at the touch, about to scream when Dean slapped his hand on his mouth, pressing his finger on his own  
lips motioning to keep quiet. Cas shoved Dean off in worry. “What the fuck is going on?” Dean motioned to the front doors, where they heard the creaking of the floor boards. “Shit, there getting closer! Cas, the police are here, we have to hide!” Cas certainly didn't want to encounter them again, so he followed Dean to the back of the barn, the flashlight beams and voices not far behind. A beam caught Cas' leg, but just in time, they climbed up the same wooden foundation post leading to the tall ceiling as if they were climbing trees. They clung to dear life, high above the ground. The police entered the area, flashing their lights across the floor and hay stacks. Great. Donna and Hendrickson. Cas and Dean were almost on top of each other, sharing the same post. “Shit” Cas grumbled, sharing a mutual expression of fear with Dean. “Hendrickson, Castiel could have gone anywhere. He wouldn't be dumb enough to hide out in this barn. I could tell he was a sharp kid, he knows the tricks to hide. Hell, he's probably been runnin' off for years by now” The woman looked kind, Dean thought. She had blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and a sad smile on her face. But how did she know Cas? He looked at Cas' face pushing next to him, but Cas ignored it, trying to listen to the lady. The two cops continued to talk about Cas' bruises and scars, theorizing what his story was. Donna said he was probably kid running from an abusive home, but Hendrickson told her he was probably some low-life kid making shit up. Dean was horrified by what they were saying. Did that really happen to Cas? He was still looking at Cas next to him, but Cas was silent, glaring down at the cops instead of at him. Dean could see the sadness behind Cas' stolid composure. They were losing their grips on the wooden post. Splinters were finding their way into their palms and Dean was the first to start sliding south. The cops were still there, right under the pole, so if Dean slipped, they would both be done for. He quickly grabbed onto Cas' shoulder, disregarding the guy's flinch. He let Dean grab his shoulder as he struggled to keep his own grip. “Alright Donna, lets go and check with the local shops. See if they saw Castiel.” Hendrickson was the first to make his way to the cop car outside the barn, but for a brief moment, Donna stayed behind. She walked back towards the pole, shining her flashlight around one more time. “Castiel, if you're here, I want to tell you something.” She paused and let out a sigh.  
“ You're a good kid. A very good kid. And I know you're technically breaking the law right now, but I hope you manage to find your way someday. Somewhere safe and where someone will love you the way your family was supposed to love you. I hope to see you again kiddo, but free of bruises” She smiled to herself before closing the barn door. The boys stayed where they were, eventually sliding  
down the post, squeezing the splinters out from their sweating palms. “Cas, look, I...” Cas turned to him, cutting Dean short before he could re-mention all those terrible things. “Stop Dean, I don't to talk about it” He turned his back to Dean, not wanting him to see the tears slipping from his eyes. He pulled himself together, slowly turning around to fear Dean's reaction, but Dean had his focus on the floor, obviously leaving the subject drop as if he knew Cas didn't want to make eye contact.. Maybe he understands too. Cas decided that although he had to put up with Dean, who could easily rat him out, he would probably understand what Cas was struggling through the most. An acquittance. Yes, an acquittance with the most beautiful, comforting eyes he's even seen.


End file.
